The Storm
by Cordelia Rose
Summary: This storm is just like any other, except that everything Merlin touches becomes infected with a lilac dust, invisible to everyone in this dimension. For obvious reasons, nobody notices this dust, but they notice that the storm has been going for an unusually long time, and Merlin starts to realise that he feels...well...odd.
1. Chapter 1

_Chapter 1_

_Warning/s: None._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: So this is just a plotbunny that popped out of nowhere. Honestly, I have no idea what inspired this. I don't have a plan for this story like I usually do, so suggest any ideas you have for the story and I'll taken them into consideration._

_If anyone's concerned about my other stories, I'm not abandoning them, never fear ;)_

* * *

Merlin watched the thunder roll across the sky almost lazily, resulting in a final, booming clap that seemed to explode directly over the castle. The lightning illuminated the sky shortly afterwards in a long, jagged crack that split the heavens in half. The rain was torrential, thick and heavy, a cascade of fat drops of water that was relentless.

Still, the guards were braving the weather, although possibly it was more from the duty of loyalty they held to their king rather than their own personal feelings. Merlin suspected that half of them would, given the chance, come sprinting inside at the first opportunity and settle in front of a blazing fire to warm the blood running through them.

He didn't envy them in the slightest; he was quite content to remain in Arthur's chambers for as long as possible. The king always had a roaring fire that heated the whole room and its occupants, and while Merlin was usually eager to escape back to his own chambers in the evening, tonight he had no wish to scurry through the chilled corridors back to his own freezing room.

He and Gaius had no fireplace, and while Merlin had his magic, he was cautious about using it, lest there be any unexpected visitors. Gaius's joints were never in the best of shape but in the harsh months of the winter, they appeared to seize up more than was usual and his aged guardian found all movement difficult.

Merlin was indignant over this on behalf of his adoptive parent but knew it was pointless to argue with anyone over the matter; it would benefit neither of them and would possibly get one or both of them into trouble.

Merlin stood up from sweeping ash from the fireplace with triumph and surveyed the pristine marble with pride. He may be clumsy, clumsier than any other servant in the castle, and awful at some jobs, but nobody in Camelot could claim to be a better fireplace-sweeper than him. "Finished," he announced for Arthur's benefit.

"Well done," Arthur replied absent-mindedly, not bothering to so much as glance in his direction. His gaze was focused on Guinevere, who was curled up on their bed, the covers lapping at her knees and her nightdress white and delicately embroidered. She had braided her hair and it ran almost fully down her back, and she was frowning at some paperwork clutched in her hands.

Merlin rolled his eyes; Arthur was extremely level-headed the majority of the time, but as soon as he saw his wife even slightly undressed (or sometimes just his wife full stop), his brains liquefied and dribbled from his ears. At this particular moment, Arthur had abandoned his own paperwork in favour of staring at his wife from the table, and Merlin decided to give the two some privacy.

"I should get back to Gaius," Merlin excused himself, bouncing across the room to the door, mentally bracing himself for the cold blast that was inevitable.

"Good night, Merlin," Gwen called after him, raising her voice so it was audible over the storm. A howling wind had started now, rattling the windows and threatening to drown their words out.

"Good night," Merlin returned, and pulled the door open. The gust of cold air was worse than Merlin had imagined, and he winced and shuddered. He made sure to close the door behind him securely to prevent any more of the chilled air entering their chambers. The last thing he saw was Gwen throw the papers behind her, seemingly uncaring that they scattered all over the floors, as Arthur approached and bounded on the beds.

Merlin tried to repress all thoughts of whatever they were about to do from his mind: he really didn't like imagining those things about his friends. He wrapped his jacket tighter around his skinny frame and headed down the many corridors and spiralling staircases to his own quarters. The wind screeched again and instinctively Merlin reached out for something to steady him even though he knew he was quite safe.

With his hand brushing the wall, Merlin trotted down the staircase and along what he thought to be the longest corridor in the castle, unaware of the trail of faintly sparkling, lilac dust he was depositing.

It was a quick, two-minute journey back to the physician's chambers and Merlin was disappointed to find that inside, it was colder than the corridors. "Gaius?" he called, surprised to find that the chambers were quite dark and, on further investigation, empty.

Merlin muttered a spell under his breath and the candles around him all sprung up in flames. With the chambers lighter, Merlin began to hunt and shift through Gaius's work for a note. It was peculiar – there was a potion that seemed to be only halfway made, and a bowl full of unground herbs. He found no note in his search but shrugged off the matter. In the past, Gaius had often been called out to an emergency and had had to drop everything in favour of the crisis, and had not always had the time to leave a note of explanation for Merlin.

Merlin, finding that he was not really that tired yet, decided to finish the work that Gaius had been doing, and recognised the potion as a common cure for a heavy cough. It wasn't strenuous work, and Merlin worked in silence. The light coating of lilac dust he left everywhere he touched was invisible to him.

Satisfied with the result of his concocting, Merlin carefully stored away the spare ingredients and left the small bottle out on the table in case Gaius came back before he woke. He noticed that a few of Gaius's supplies were running low, so he picked up the small slip of parchment that Gaius kept on his low desk and scribbled down which herbs were in dire need of replenishment.

He realised that he was putting off the time that he would have to undress and settle in his bed, and he knew the reason why: there was a small amount of magic in all storms, and it made Merlin uneasy. He didn't like sleeping with a storm on; he always feared that the excess magic in the air would send his own haywire.

At last, Merlin exhausted all means of procrastination and admitted that it was finally time for him to sleep, although he still was not tired. He suspected that the feeling was the storm again, providing him with excess energy, and that made him even more unwilling to fall into an unconscious slumber.

Nevertheless, he jogged into his room and closed his small window, not wanting to hear the shrieking of the wind the entire night. He tugged his shirt off over his head easily, the cold air causing goose-bumps to rise over his skin. Before he stripped down to just his underclothes, Merlin pulled his nightshirt from the closet and covered his torso with the thick fabric.

Merlin kicked his trousers onto the floor and then redressed in his sleeping trousers, picking his clothes up from the floor and stashing them back in his wardrobe. His bed was neatly made from his morning so Merlin clambered into it easily, resting his head on the pillow and staring at the wall opposite him. He dragged the covers up to his chin and whispered an incantation to light an unusually warm fire in the palms of his hands.

Suddenly, maybe from the drain on his magic, he felt his eyelids drooping. He extinguished the fire before he dropped off and then settled down, the lilac dust still not visible to him, even though it coated everything he had laid his hands on.

Merlin closed his eyes and allowed himself to drop off, still uneasy with the storm but now not able to escape the insistent tugging of the dreamland. Unbeknown to him, the lilac dust that he had spread over the walls of the castle had started to awaken.

* * *

_A/N: I am currently running a writing competition for the Merlin fandom - it can be absolutely anything, please check out merlinwriting2014 . tumblr . com for more details (without the gaps, obviously). I hope you enjoyed this chapter!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter 2_

_Warning/s: Just a little bit of…horror? I'm not sure what to call it. Weird trippy stuff, basically._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: Sorry this has taken a long time – I won't bore you with any excuses but hopefully my updates will be more regular now. Thanks to everyone who's following so far – I hope I won't disappoint!_

_Anyway, I'll let you get on with reading now, and please drop me a review :)_

* * *

Merlin awoke the next morning with a strange shuddering sensation. His body, right down to his bones, was tingling with an odd, chiming feeling, his muscles were taut and difficult to move and his skin was paler than its usual hue. For him, that was more alarming than usual, as he was the colour of a corpse at his best. Now he was practically luminous, and under closer inspection, his skin looked to be _sparkling_ somehow, catching the dim light streaming through his window whenever he moved slightly.

Nevertheless, Merlin kicked the covers from his legs, noting the way that his legs felt heavy when they were raised in the air, as if they were covered in a fine layer of lead. He let them drop back down to his thin, hard mattress with a muffled thump and laid in bed for a while longer, staring up at his roughly-decorated, cracked ceiling.

He must be going insane – the ceiling was glittering as well, just like his arm, a subtle shining. In fact, now that he had noticed the ceiling, the rest of his room was glinting as well. Merlin concluded that it was just his eyesight in the faint lighting of his room, so he stood – pretending that he hadn't noticed the residual ache throughout his body – and headed to his wardrobe. The door was heavier than usual and Merlin had to heave to open it, but put it down to tiredness.

He felt nauseated all of a sudden, when he stepped into the main room of his chambers; there was suddenly an oppressive block of heat that he smashed into like a solid brick wall, unusual in this weather. The storm was still ongoing, or perhaps it was a different storm that had replaced the initial one sometime when he was unconscious.

His eyes stung like they were being pricked by nettles – everything was glittering and shimmering where the light caught it. It caused a strange, underwater-like effect to appear on everything he looked at, but Merlin found that he was not able to direct his gaze upon anything. As soon as he tried to focus on an object, no matter how big or small, it slipped from his eyes, slithering away.

The feeling was not dissimilar to being ill. Alas, Gaius was not back to prepare him a tonic or at least something to dull the pain that sat beneath his eyes, so he headed back to his room gingerly and pulled his usual clothes on.

* * *

Arthur frowned over his papers as his servant stumbled into his chambers. He was almost an hour late for work, and although Merlin was customarily late by now, it was not usually by such a large stretch of time. He was starkly-white, like virgin snow, and his eyes seemed like deep coals sunk into his skull, even with their bright cobalt irises.

He didn't greet Arthur with one of his habitual annoyingly cheerful phrases; nor did he even look Arthur in the eyes, but kept his head faced downwards and his eyes glued to the floor. "Morning," Arthur tried, but elicited no response from his servant. Instead, the younger man shuffled towards the unmade bed and began to slowly, painfully readjust the covers.

"The storm's still raging on," Gwen commented as she stepped out from behind the wicker dressing-screen, her velvet dress trailing on the floor and rustling softly. She smiled at Merlin, but then her smile transformed into a frown when she had no grin in reply, and glanced at Arthur.

"It is," Arthur agreed, and shrugged to inform Guinevere that he knew nothing of Merlin's behaviour, or at least no more than she.

Merlin straightened up from the bed. In his arms were the covers of the bed that were soiled with dirt or sweat or other things that he didn't wish to think about, especially not now when he was feeling queasy already. His head was spinning worse than before and the shimmering that he could see on everything was becoming clearer and clearer, brighter and shinier. He wondered whether he was going mad as he left Arthur and Gwen's chambers in search of the laundry room.

He headed down the corridor and a flight of stairs, pressing his lips firmly together, for fear that words would not be the only things that erupted from his mouth if they were to open. Luckily the windows that lined the corridors of the castle were wide open and the gentle breeze drifted in, caressing Merlin's burning skin pleasantly and bringing his head some relief as he sucked the refreshing air in through his nose.

He deposited the sheets in the laundry room and left as quickly as he could: the laundry room always stank of filth and sweat, and the soap they used was made from pigs' fat – hardly the most inviting stench in the world. He often mused upon how the laundry maids were able to do this job day in, day out without vomiting at least once a week. Then again, maybe they did – he should mention upping their pay to Arthur when he had the opportunity.

With a deep sigh that only he heard, Merlin trooped back to his workplace, each step sending a pulsating pain through his body and each ray of light that poured in through the windows sending a fresh wave of pain to his head.

* * *

Gaius was still not back from his duties; for once, Merlin was grateful for this as he bolted back into his quarters. Running was not a pleasant task but it was necessary: as soon as Merlin reached his room and was able to grab the nearest bucket in sight, he emptied the contents of his stomach. He retched noisily, thankful that there was nobody else around to see him in his disgrace.

His throat burned when he was done, and even the tepid water that he had in a bronze cup by his bed did nothing to soothe the scorching. Merlin staggered into his bed without bothering to undress into pyjamas, or even kick off his boots for that matter, and so tired was he from the day's events that he was asleep within seconds.

* * *

A creature, with wings like a raven's and eyes like an owl's but the body of a monstrous beast, flew by him. Its mouth opened in a wide, mocking grin and then it had vanished in a puff of foul-smelling smoke.

A spear withdrew from the now empty air and a horribly mutilated man stood holding it, a lopsided grin upon his scarred and askew face. When he opened his eyes, they were pure gold, completely covered in the noble colour and unseeing, yet his gaze focused on Merlin. From his mouth poured a string of strange, chanting words which made no sense, yet spoke all of the truths of the universe.

Merlin understood but was completely baffled. He let himself sink through the floor and fell into another world, another dimension. This one had no morphed or misshapen monsters, only naked men and women who were of a pure, dazzling white and stared at him with their milky eyes.

"Where am I?" Merlin wondered aloud, looking around him. The men and women stopped and stared, and then all at once opened their mouths and hissed _Do not speak here_.

Their eyes rolled back into their heads and from the empty sockets poured insects, insects with a thousand legs and spiders the size of his head and some that Merlin had never seen before. Just as they scuttled towards him, Merlin awoke with a start, bathed in sweat and the feeling of a million scuttling arthropod legs on him.

* * *

_A/N: Has anyone got goodreads? I have a link to mine on my profile, please add me as a friend if you have it! And if you don't, I seriously recommend getting it!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_Warning/s: None that I can think of._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: I am back after my massively long hiatus! This chapter is fairly short, but I have pretty much all of the story written now and they're longer than this one, so don't worry ;) I really hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks to everyone for being so understanding about my hiatus x_

LINE BREAK

Merlin felt very unwell, but still he staggered along the corridors to the Royal Chambers. He hated taking days off, despite how often he moaned to Arthur about them, because if he was ever genuinely ill the entire castle seemed to know and all of the staff mothered him for the rest of the month.

He tripped over nothing but his own feet when he turned round the corner and caught himself by grabbing onto one of the torch-holders, wincing at the bite of the spikes. Luckily there was no torch in it, but it was still a little warm and a few drops of blood dripped down his palm. Merlin stared at the scarlet liquid for a few minutes in fascination before he shook himself awake and pulled a scrap of cloth from his jacket pocket, dabbing at the cuts.

He took the remainder of the trip more slowly and measuring each step in his head. When he finally reached the wooden doors, he plastered a smile onto his face and fisted his hand around the cloth, hoping that Gwen wouldn't notice if she was still there.

Flinging open the doors, Merlin internally sighed in relief when he saw that Gwen had already risen and was no doubt taking a walk somewhere, and Arthur was alone, slumbering in their bed. "Up and at 'em!" he yelled cheerfully, trying to ignore the way his head jolted at the noise and the sluggishness of his movements as he drew the curtains.

Arthur made his usual sound of irritation at being woken up, which Merlin ignored, and began to set out Arthur's morning work. He would fetch breakfast in a minute – he needed to get Arthur up first, and dressed.

"Merlin, you look terrible," Arthur said, with all of his usual tact.

Merlin frowned. "Look, I know I didn't get much sleep last night, but—"

"Not like that, you idiot," Arthur growled. He swung himself out of bed and grabbed Merlin's wrist, tugging him over to his table and steering him to a chair. "Your hand's bleeding, for a start, you're pale and sweating, and you can't focus your eyes." The king peered at him. "Why did you come into work today?"

"I'm fine," Merlin insisted, trying to stand up once more, but his limbs seemed to be made of lead and he fell back down. "I just hate storms. They make me nervous," he lied.

"Why?" Out of all of the things his manservant could have said, that was not the one that Arthur was expecting.

"When we had storms in Ealdor, it would destroy all of the crops and leave us starving. It's a left-over habit," Merlin lied smoothly, hoping that Arthur, not knowing much about peasant life, would just accept the lie.

He did, and moved on to say, "Well, I think it's starting to clear up anyway. I reckon it'll be gone by this afternoon."

At this news, Merlin perked up a little. He had a feeling this storm was magical somehow, and he didn't like it. He just hoped it wasn't dark magic.

* * *

Arthur had been right – the storm started to leave off by noon, and by mid-way through the afternoon, it ended. Several things happened at once when it ended – Merlin, in the middle of watching the knights do their training, suddenly yelped as he saw a tornado of light purple dust heading towards him at speed, and promptly collapsed when it hit him. The knights all rushed over to him, checking that he was breathing and for any obvious wounds, and were baffled when they saw none. Gaius was summoned to the field and the sky became bright red for just a flash, barely even a second.

Gaius announced that Merlin seemed to have just fainted, and mentioned that it could be from lack of sleep or food, both of which the manservant had not been getting enough of recently. So Arthur managed to stop worrying quite as much – although he'd never admit to worrying at all – and Percival carried Merlin to his room and everything seemed to be fine.

What the anxious group of friends who gathered in Gaius's chambers, to be there in case Merlin woke up soon, didn't realise was how tortured Merlin's mind currently was. He didn't twitch or moan in his sleep, but his mind was back in the strange realm and people with beetles for eyes and he was in excruciating agony and he just couldn't seem to wake up – and now somebody was coming for him.

LINE BREAK

_A/N: Leave me a review so I don't think I'm entirely terrible? Xxx_


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4_

_Warning/s: none that I can think of. _

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: Sorry this chapter is a little late - my beta has been ill recently so she wasn't able to check this chapter over as quickly as she usually does. I hope you're all enjoying the story so far, and I hope you still like this story! Please leave me some feedback so I know what you think of the story xx_

* * *

Merlin opened his eyes and stared upwards, expecting to see his ceiling. He saw instead an endless stretch of pure white, which shifted upwards and downwards. It seemed to be suffocating Merlin one moment, and then the next he had an almost despairing sense of agoraphobia. He sat up slowly and looked around him.

He swallowed his fear. All around him were those strange, horrifying creatures from his dreams. They weren't paying any attention to him, but they were there nonetheless. Merlin wondered whether he was in the dream again – but he remembered the agony of getting to this place, and deduced that it was more than likely that this was reality.

_Emrys_, a voice hissed into his mind. Merlin turned his head so abruptly that his neck twanged in protest. Instinctively he stood up to face the creature that was coming towards him.

_Relax,_ the thing insisted. _I mean you no harm. I wish for you to help us_.

The creature was composed entirely out of a sand-like substance, and shaped like a deformed deer. It walked in an awkward hobble, but with a strange kind of grace, and it was a dull red in colour. Most interestingly, when the thing spoke, its mouth opened and closed and moved just like Merlin's would, but the words came directly into his mind.

"What are you?" Merlin asked, his breathing quicker than normal and a little panicked. "What do you want?"

_Emrys, please,_ the thing pleaded. _You are now in a different realm to your own. We rule your world, your mortal world, and recently…we have suffered. And if we suffer, you suffer._

"How do you mean?"

_There was…an uprising, for lack of a better term,_ the creature admitted. _There is a strict hierarchy here and some of those in the lower rungs – though not mis-treated – felt like they were not given a fair deal and mutinied. It created havoc. The order of our world has now fallen into disarray, and if it is not repaired soon, your world will too._ The creature lifted a single, blue eye to gaze at Merlin. _You, Emrys, are the only one that can help us._

Merlin glanced around himself nervously, swallowing. "What has gone wrong?" he asked cautiously.

_When the lower classes revolted, those higher up panicked and instead of keeping a fair hold on the elements of your world, they clutched onto them, afraid of losing them._

"Elements?" Merlin queried.

_Such as the weather. We – me and the other Elemental Leaders – control the weather, food, water, and natural order of your world. But now it has started to fall apart._

"Is that the reason for the storm? And why it was so long?" Merlin was beginning to accept what it was telling him now.

_Yes, Emrys. I am glad you are understanding._ The creature shook itself suddenly and expanded, growing to around three times its size. _I must show you some things. Please sit on my back and I will take you._

Merlin stared at it apprehensively. He was only just beginning to give this thing some credit and definitely didn't trust it enough to let it give him a ride. But then again, he didn't see what choice he had, so he walked over to the thing. "Do you have a name?" he asked as he staggered over to the creature. The ground was moving underneath his feet, threatening to dislodge him.

_Not in your tongue. But you may call me Erran._

"Erran," Merlin repeated. "Alright, Erran, where are we going?" He climbed onto Erran gingerly and clutched on tightly. Erran had kneeled for him to clamber on, but now it was straightening up and it became decidedly higher and scarier.

_For you to bring order to both of our worlds, you must complete a series of tasks,_ Erran informed him solemnly. _There are five creatures, excluding myself, who rule this world. All of them have committed great atrocities due to this panic. It has long been prophesied that this day would come, yet none of us knew when. In order to prepare us for these…events, our elders left us scrolls, detailing what must be done._

Merlin swallowed. This didn't sound like his idea of a fun time. "What are the tasks?"

_First, the Shadow Snake._ Suddenly, they were in front of a great rock, the grey front of which was displaying an image of a strange, twisted being. It reminded Merlin of his brief time in the Crystal Cave. _He is responsible for taking lives when it is their time to go, but he has been harbouring lately, taking more people to keep their souls in case he ever needs them as a bargaining chip._

_You must stop him. The Elders did not leave much detail in their scrolls, but the task is clear enough; you must split his soul from his body so that his conscience can see what he is doing._

"That doesn't sound difficult at all," Merlin remarked sarcastically, peering at the Shadow Snake. It was definitely shaped somewhat like a snake, but had a much wider head and a few odd things that hung off his scaly body in bulbous sacs.

Erran made a deep, rumbling noise, one that Merlin assumed to be laughter. _You will find a way to do it, Emrys. Next, The Crops' Reaper._

The image fogged over and then cleared, showing a skeletal figure with long talons and a beak like nose. _She is responsible for making sure that your world has enough crops left over when we take our share, but people on your world are now starving. She too is harbouring her products, in case she needs them in the future._

"Right. How do I defeat her?"

_You must find a way to take some of her own flesh and feed it to her; she will be so disgusted at her gluttony that she will cease all of her selfish acts._

"Again, sounds really easy," Merlin sighed. "I will try, though," he added hastily.

_Then we will move on to The Mugger._ The image cleared again and showed another creature. This one was scarily human-like, apart from its eyes. They glowed bright red and seemed to stare off into space, unseeing and unfocused. _This one is possibly my least favourite. Its job is to ensure that there is enough water spread around the world. A difficult job, and for it, a difficult price. This Mugger – it feeds off human children._

"What?" Merlin asked incredulously.

_He would not do his job otherwise, _Erran replied sadly. _You must stop him, Emrys. You must feed him stones instead of children so that he believes their flesh is making him ill. Only then will he stop._

Merlin gritted his teeth and nodded determinedly. The image faded in and out again. It showed another human-like creature, but with disproportionate limbs and an oddly shaped body.

_This one does not have a name, but she is referred to as the One. She is the single deity we have, who rules over all of us. When our world, and therefore yours, fell into disarray, her mortal body began to rot. Her non-corporeal form is not material, and therefore she has taken to stealing parts of humans in order to rebuild herself._

Merlin stared at the image; now he could see the reason for all of the bulges and twists that unnaturally shaped her body. "How do I defeat her?"

_You must capture her ethereal spirit in a container of some sort,_ Erran replied. _And then she will be forced to let the corporeal form go. And when you have defeated the next creature, the final one, then she can be released._

"So the next one is the last one?" Merlin asked in relief. He felt tired just from hearing about all of these creatures.

_Indeed. The Aeger. It spreads disease over your world to gain energy which it can store. Usually it does this in small amounts here and there, but now it has grown reckless. It threatens many lives. To stop it, you must take one of its own stored illnesses and unleash it on him. Only in this way will it stop._

"And then everything will be restored to order?" Merlin asked nervously.

_Yes, Emrys. And if you do not succeed – then we will all perish._

* * *

_A/N: Cliffhanger :O_


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

_Warning/s: Just a bit of weird sort-of-gore?_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: I feel ill today. I think I'm coming down with something. Yay. However it does mean that everyone is bringing me stuff whenever I want it whilst I lie in bed watching YouTube so mwahahahaha_

* * *

"How do I get to this Shadow Snake?"

_I will take you there,_ Erran replied calmly.

Merlin wanted to ask how but he was caught up in a whirlwind of lilac, much like the one that had come for him in Camelot, and suddenly he was standing in front of the Shadow Snake. Curiously, the creature didn't seem to see him, and Merlin waved a hand in front of its face just to make sure. He wondered if there was some kind of spell cast on him by Erran, but when he cleared his throat, the creature looked his way.

Then Merlin realised that the Shadow Snake had no eyes, and was blind apart from sound and smell. He resolved to be as quiet as he could, at least whilst he tried to figure out how to defeat the Snake. How was he meant to cut off parts of his soul? And considering he had no sight, how could he show him the distress he was causing?

Merlin brought up a hand to rub his nose and it brushed upon something hard in his jacket pocket. He froze, and then slowly delved into the fabric and pulled out a curved sword. Erran must have given it to him, he guessed; at least that solved the mystery of what he was going to do the soul-cutting with. Now all he had to do was figure out the rest.

The Shadow Snake was slithered around, muttering to itself in a guttural tongue. Merlin eyed the bulbous lumps that were scattered around the scaly body. They were glittering a bright gold, a sharp contrast to his dark body, and the contents of them seemed to be swirling around the sacks. Merlin stepped a little closer to the creature, all too conscious of the slight rustle that his trousers were giving off, and examined it a little more.

Inside he could see masses of screaming, faceless people. Their shrieks pierced his soul, much like the mandrake root did, and Merlin realised with a shock that this must be the souls of the Shadow Snake. What else could these horrifying images be?

Carefully, Merlin raised his curved sword to eye-level and considered whether he had to literally cut off the soul sacs or not. He supposed that was the most obvious way to go, and also the best way to separate them from the Snake's body so he could see them without his bias, but how to go about it?

Merlin's skills with a sword were minimal at best and he needed to get at least one of them off in one clean sweep in order for anything to happen, he would guess. They weren't small, either, these bags; the Shadow Snake was a good eight feet tall even with half of its body curled up underneath it, and the sacs were the size of his fist, a few bigger, so cutting one off would take several hacks with his lack of strength.

Still, it was worth a try. Merlin gathered all of his strength and raised the sword, aiming it at one of the sacs. He swung down the curved blade and jumped back as the sac split open; golden memories poured out like pus from a sore and the Shadow Snake roared in harsh pain. Merlin stumbled backwards, dropping the sword in surprise, and the Shadow Snake turned towards the noise.

Instinctively, Merlin leapt in the opposite way and scooped some of the memories up. They felt like goo in his hands, and threatened to slither out, but Merlin kept gathering them up until he had a good handful. Then he lunged towards the Shadow Snake and poured it over his head and body, crying out with the effort.

The effect was instant. The Shadow Snake shrieked and shrunk away from the substance, howling and turned its head this way and that. Merlin leapt back once more, clutching at the sword as if he had any chance against the Snake.

A bright orange eye flickered open, as if it was growing out of the Snake's head. Merlin watched curiously as the memories were sucked into the orange, turning it a molten gold. All of the other sacs drooped as their contents were drained, going inside its tubular body and also flooding into its eye.

Eventually the Shadow Snake dropped to the floor, writhing in agony. "What have I done?" it asked Merlin in despair, its eye staring at him.

"It's over now," Merlin said soothingly, not knowing quite to say. The eye was open and unblinking, bright gold where there had previously been scale. Funny, Merlin pondered, how the Snake was so blind to what he was doing due to fear that he was physically unable to see.

"Thank you," the Shadow Snake rasped, still lying on the floor. The bulbs had completely disappeared from his body now, and all that had been contained in them was held in his eye. Merlin shivered as he saw all that was inside him.

Before he had any time to say anything else or try to comfort the Snake, Merlin felt himself be carried away in the lilac storm again and he was lying in front of Erran once more. "I did it," Merlin said, his head spinning a little and feeling more than a little euphoric.

_You did, Emrys_, Erran said happily. _You truly are as wonderful as the legends say_. _Are you ready for the next challenge?_

Merlin nodded, sure that this was going to be much easier than he believed.


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

_Warning/s: weird stuff because i'm slightly feverish_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: I am extremely ill and please just let me die_

* * *

The whirlwind made Merlin feel nauseous this time, and he retched as he landed. He coughed up nothing and then clambered to his feet shakily, looking around himself. It was the same white space, but this time shelves towered above him and spread all around, making Merlin feel claustrophobic. They were filled with pottery, jars and bowls and plates, and each item was bursting with food of some kind.

The Crops Reaper emerged from behind one of the shelves, her bony feet clacking on the floor and her talons twitching as she muttered to herself. She caught sight of Merlin, who felt very small and inadequate at that moment, and froze. Then she snapped her break together and asked him, "What do you want?"

"For you to stop taking so much," Merlin replied hoarsely. He was holding the curved sword in his hand still but it seemed useless against this creature. She was so skinny that there was barely any flesh on her; Merlin could tell already that the tasks were going to get increasingly harder.

"I need it," the Crops' Reaper croaked. She tapped her beak nervously. "I cannot let them get the better of me again. I must have food." Apparently judging Merlin to be only a minor threat, if that, she turned back to counting her supplies and murmuring nonsensical words to herself.

Merlin gripped the sword in his hand and steeled himself. Chopping off part of her flesh would be easy enough, but feeding it to her? That was the part that Merlin couldn't figure out. She seemed to resemble a bird in all ways but one; where there should be wings, there were two small stumps of flesh, raw red and bumpy with pus-filled blemishes. They were probably Merlin's best bet for slicing off – he could sneak up on her as well, when her back was facing him.

He swallowed nervously. He knew what this creature was doing was wrong and corrupted, but the idea of making her commit cannibalism, not just on her own species but on herself for that matter, made Merlin want to physically retch. Still, it was something that had to be done. If not for this strange, ethereal world, so he could get back to Camelot and to his destiny.

Gulping down his nerves, Merlin crept towards the skeletal, avian-like being. Arthur accused him of being noisy whenever they went on hunts, but really he was purposely creating warnings for the animals. He could be silent when he needed to be, just like now.

He raised his sword as soon as he was within five strides of the beast, and then before his nerves could fail him, he swung down with the curved blade and neatly cut through the lump of flesh and burns and boils. The creature squawked but didn't bleed; she turned around, glaring at Merlin and hissing, and swiped at him with a claw. He dodged it narrowly, dropping to the floor and grabbing the part of her that had fallen to the floor.

He had to fight to hold back his vomit as he grabbed it, and rolled out of the way of yet another of her swipes and stumbled to his feet unsteadily, clutching the flesh to his chest protectively. His main thought was just to get away, so he scrambled behind the nearest shelf and ran in and out, weaving through the maze. At first, the Reaper pursued him, but after a while she seemingly gave up or tired, and Merlin was able to rest.

About to actually throw up the little food in his stomach, Merlin dropped his package and took in deep breaths. It was no use; he vomited as quietly as he could to the side, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand when he finished.

Now he faced the next main problem: how in the name of Camelot was he going to feed it to her?

Taking a moment to recover himself, still feeling slightly nauseated, Merlin eyed the lump in front of him. There was no way he would eat that, however well cooked and pleasantly presented it was to him. But the Crops' Reaper wasn't human, despite eating human foods, so perhaps in her desperation to eat and store food she would take whatever she was given – that was what Merlin hoped, anyway.

He had spied a bowl sitting on the floor when he first came in, unlike the others which were on the shelves, and in it was some kind of wheat-coloured powder, almost as if she had ground up some of the stolen food to eat. Maybe if he could tear her flesh into small pieces, and find a way to slip it into the bowl, she would eat it, not being aware of what she was doing.

But what if she had to be aware of what she was doing? What if that was the point of all this; she had to be disgusted enough to stop, so by that logic, surely she would have to know what she had done. Which put Merlin back to square one.

After a few minutes of thought, Merlin decided on his plan. He would go with his original idea of slipping in the meat, but when she ate it, he would emerge from the shadows, tell her what she was eating, and that would be enough to shock her into stopping her crimes. He hoped, anyway. He sighed as he gingerly picked up the lump of her flesh again. This was only the second task and it nearly had him stumped.

Navigating his way back through the bookshelves blindly, Merlin noticed that some of the food she had stored was rotting away. Bluey-green lumps of mould were growing on both the plants and the meat, and some of the older specimens were greying as well. It stank of decay.

With that new motivation, Merlin jogged through the labyrinth of shelves, holding his jacket sleeve to his nose to mask the stink. His other hand was holding the disgusting meal that the Crops' Reaper would soon be enjoying. If that was the right words for it.

Finally, he came to the exit – or entrance, depending on your perspective – and peered round the corner pensively. Seeing the Reaper with her back to him, and standing a fair few strides away from the bowl, Merlin took his chance. Fighting the urge to vomit again, he tore of a few thin strips of meat and tossed them into the bowl, mixing them around with his hand to disguise them amongst the other substances. Then, quick as a whip, he dashed back behind the shelf to hide, but ready to reveal himself as soon as he needed to.

He had to wait for what seemed like hours before the creature finally stopped doing whatever she was doing – writing in a book, most likely some form of accounting for all of her goods – and turned around to eat more food. Greedily, she scooped up large portions with her claw-like hands, her talons spearing some of the hardier substances, and stuffed it into her mouth.

Merlin took his chance once she had swallowed five or six handfuls. "Crops' Reaper," he called out, his mouth suddenly uncomfortably dry. The creature spun around, hissing at him and glaring, and crouched as if she was about to pounce.

"What did you just eat?" Merlin cried out, unconsciously backing up a few steps and clutching the sword a little tighter. "I added a little something."

The Reaper glared at him, and for a second Merlin worried that she would pay no heed to his words. But then she bent down, her spine prominent through the paper-thin skin on her back, and rummaged through the remainder of the food. She came up with a handful of dusty crops, decayed meat, and one single strip of her own flesh. At first, she examined the foreign substance curiously, and then caught sight of the pus-filled boils on one side of it, and the strange green tinge on the other side.

Her reaction was instant; she fell to her knees and shrieked in a pitch so high it hurt Merlin's ears, and a flood of tears erupted from her eyes. "I have done so much wrong," she said, and all of a sudden her voice was much clearer and more pleasant to listen to, and her form began to change until she was no longer wizened and crippled but strong and proud. Still she cried and clutched at herself, overcome by the horrors of what she had done.

Merlin wondered whether he had succeeded when a whirlwind appeared yet again, whisking him away and back to Erran, who was projecting his happiness into Merlin's mind for him. _You have completed the task_, it said to him gratefully. _Would you like a minute to prepare for the next one?_

Merlin shook his head. "I'd rather just keep going," he said truthfully. If he paused for even a second, he feared his willpower would crack and he wouldn't be able to carry on.

Erran inclined its head and spoke to him telepathically. _Very well, Emrys._ And he was lost again in the lilac dust.

* * *

_A/N: my dog keeps trying to lick my belly button is this normal behaviour? also please review because it might make me feel like life is worth living even with this influenza shiz_


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7_

_Warning/s: None that I can think of_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: I get my GCSE results tomorrow D:_

* * *

When the whirlwind dissolved into the air and Merlin was met with The Mugger, Merlin was reminded of how creepily like a human it was. Thick-set, muscled, long black hair down to its waist and long arms and legs. Evidently he was based off the male form rather than the female, Merlin noted from his lack of clothing.

The Mugger hadn't noticed his sudden arrival, concentrating hard over a bowl of sand. Merlin wondered what he was doing absent-mindedly, before he refocused on the task at hand. This task was going to be even more disgusting than the last one. Feeding someone their own flesh was one thing; dealing with a creature that ate babies was quite another, in Merlin's book at least.

What did Erran say? Feed the creature rocks instead of the children to convince it that the babies were making it ill, and therefore make it stop. Well, that would be easy. Rocks and humans had much the same flavour and texture, after all.

Edging away from The Mugger, Merlin disappeared behind a shelf that was stacked with bags of sand – seriously, why did everyone here love shelves? – and searched for any sign of a baby. He made sure to be silent as he went, pausing after every slight noise to make sure that he hadn't been discovered.

After what felt like an hour of creeping – probably ten minutes, at the most – Merlin came across a basic cot made of wood. There was a child wailing in it, uncomfortable on the wooden slats and probably hungry or missing its mother. It was wrapped in a white cloth and nothing else.

Merlin swallowed; he hated to see something like this, could only imagine the grief of the child's parents and how upset the child must be, away from family and hungry and cold and tired. He felt a surge of anger towards The Mugger for demanding such a disgusting price and resolutely picked up the child, cradling it to his chest and murmuring quietly to calm him.

Now he needed to find the rock – already a plan had formed in his mind. Judging from the way that The Mugger had been squinting at his work, his sight wasn't brilliant, so if he could just wrap a rock in the baby's cloth then The Mugger could be fooled into eating it instead of the innocent child.

Contemplating, Merlin tucked the baby inside his jacket to keep her warm – having taken the swaddling cloth off, he had discovered that she was indeed a girl – and examined the multitude of shelves. They were all full of bags of sand, and nothing else. Merlin growled in frustration, hitting one of the bags in anger.

Then he grinned. Because although most of the bag seemed to depress when he punched it, he had also scraped his knuckles on something hard. Using the curved knife to slit open the bag, sand poured out…and several large rocks.

This task was easier than he had anticipated. Merlin headed back to the cot, shushing the child as he did so, and singlehandedly wrapped the rock in the cloth. He had made sure to get the one as close to the child's fair complexion as possible, hoping that The Mugger would just see a blur of colour and nothing else.

He supposed he would have to wait now, to see if his plan was successful. The baby had fallen asleep against his chest, which was a small mercy at least. He didn't want her to cry and alert The Mugger that she wasn't in the cot. Merlin secreted himself into a gap between two shelves, drawing up his knees to his chest, and hoped that The Mugger would hurry up.

He had to wait for what was actually an hour this time; the baby woke up a few times but soon drifted off again, seemingly comforted by Merlin's body heat. She was probably hungry, Merlin realised, but there was little he could do about that.

When The Mugger appeared, he was feeling his way around to the cot, which meant that Merlin's suspicions about his bad eyesight were true. The Mugger eventually located the crib, and with a triumphant cry he reached down and patted the bottom. His hands grazed the cloth and with one fluent movement, he swept up the rock and with sheer force broke the rock in half, discarding the cloth.

Merlin shuddered to think what would have happened if the baby was still in the cloth. If he was able to break rocks in half…she would have been slaughtered within seconds. That thought in mind, Merlin cuddled the baby a little closer to his chest.

The Mugger didn't chew, just gulped down the two halves of the rock and belched satisfiedly. Then he frowned and clutched at his throat, and then a few seconds later he coughed up blood. The rock had grazed the skin of his throat, and when they settled in his stomach, Merlin almost laughed at the look of mingled surprise and horror on The Mugger's face.

Groaning, The Mugger collapsed to his knees and clutched his stomach in agony. "Oh," he moaned in a strangely human voice. "Ohhh." He shuddered as he retched up more blood, and toppled over onto his side. "No more," he muttered to himself in a mantra, over and over again. "No more no more no more no more."

Merlin, taking that as his sign that his task was complete, cradled the baby to him carefully and waited for the lilac whirlwind. It didn't come. Merlin frowned, wondering what else possibly needed to be done.

Then The Mugger started vomiting, at first clots of blood, but then whole children babies, who emerged from his mouth screaming and naked, calling out for attention for milk and comfort. Merlin watched in amazement as they kept coming, horrified by the sheer number of them. He counted them as they came up.

In total, The Mugger had eaten over two thousand babies, and it took him a long time to vomit them all up. Once he had, the whirlwind arrived, at first taking the regurgitated babies with it, and then finally moving over to Merlin, who accepted it gratefully.

He landed in front of Erran, and removed the baby from his jacket. "Can you return her?" he asked anxiously.

Erran bowed his hand in response. _That is what I have done with the others, Emrys. _With that, the baby was gone. _You are performing well. I am pleased, Emrys, and proud._

Merlin smiled awkwardly. He wasn't good with compliments. "Just trying to help," he said honestly. "Who is it next? The One?" Erran inclined his head again. "Let's go then," Merlin said tiredly.


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8_

_Warning/s: None_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: Second to last chapter! Hope you're all enjoying xx_

* * *

Merlin embraced the whirlwind now, enjoying the few moments of peace that it gave him in between tasks. This next one – The One – was going to be either very easy or very hard. He had to capture the very essence of her being, and in what?

When he landed, Merlin found he was not only equipped with the curved blade, but with a small bottle as well. He rolled his eyes – Erran really did think of everything, and before it was too late unlike Merlin.

The One was again like a human, but all different skin tones and disproportionate limbs. Merlin arrived crouched behind a table, automatically given cover, and observed The One for a while. She was working on another table, murmuring to herself in a distressed tone, and grinding and chopping herbs on a small board.

Merlin sighed inwardly – how was he supposed to know how to capture her soul? She wasn't like the Shadow Snake, who had the odd, bulbous sacs all over his body which contained his being. Even as he was thinking this, her hands slipped – probably because her arms were different lengths and one was far more muscular than the other – and the knife cut open her finger. Instead of blood, a blue, swirling mist flowed from the lesion, which she quickly inhaled through her nose, the cut closing almost immediately afterwards. Merlin grinned – this was going to be another easy one then.

Slipping out from behind the table, Merlin approached The One from behind, uncorking the small vial and raising the sword. In one vicious motion, he gripped The One's stolen head and revealed her neck, slicing open. The blue mist flowed out like blood from her neck, and Merlin was able to catch it all in the vial. The body sagged against him, and he dropped it in disgust. Parts of it were already rotting away, and it stank just as bad as the Crops' Reaper's decaying food did, if not worse.

"Easy," he said aloud, eying the full vial.

* * *

This was the last one. The Aeger. Once he finished this, he had done the entire thing.

Swallowing his nerves, Merlin rummaged through the shelves in its 'room', hoping to find a disease suitable for The Aeger. He had caught the attention of the beast the moment he had arrived, so he was having to run quickly to evade capture, no time to catch his breath.

None of the bottles that contained the diseases were labelled, so Merlin was having to go purely off how strong the stored disease looked and how much of it there was. He assumed that The Aeger was going to need something strong to hinder him, and finally Merlin came across a bottle full of green blobs floating around in a viscous orange liquid, the bottle absolutely full to the brim of it.

Shaking, Merlin uncapped the vial carefully and threw the cork to the side, ready to throw the vile concoction over the creature.

It attacked from behind, nearly causing Merlin to drop the precious bottle. He spilled a little, but it went onto the floor and not onto him, which he was grateful for, and barely thinking about what he was doing, Merlin threw the bottle over his shoulder and watched as the substance splashed all over The Aeger.

Immediately, the creature shrieked in pain and curled up, shaking violently as if to try to get the liquid of itself. He screamed something in a language that Merlin didn't know and collapsed, vicious burns appearing all over his body.

Merlin scrambled backwards, eager to avoid any of the illness from catching him, and ran away. He didn't trust The Aeger not to give chase suddenly, so he scampered until he caught sight of a spiral of lilac following him. He stopped and allowed it to catch up with him, ecstasy that he had finished all of the tasks.

Erran was just as happy as Merlin, though he was more reserved in his joy. _Emrys,_ he rumbled. _You have done us a great deed. We will never forget this, ever. We are in your debt._

Merlin smiled, feeling light-headed with the relief. "Don't mention it," he said humbly. "Can I go back to Camelot now? Not that I hate it here, but that prat will probably have gotten himself mortally wounded by now."

Erran laughed, a deep grumble. _Of course, Emrys._


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9_

_Warning/s: Last chapter :(_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin._

_A/N: It's the last chapter already! Thank you to everyone who's posted reviews, followed and favourited - it really does mean the world. I really hope you enjoy this story as a whole, and that the ending isn't rubbish._

* * *

On his journey back to the mortal realm, Merlin realised that he didn't ask how much time had passed since he had been gone. Had it been mere seconds, and he would be back in the early morning hours? Or could it have been the opposite, and days, even weeks had passed? And what had been happening to his corporeal form in that time?

He got his answers within seconds. He was jolted back into reality, and at once realised that he was lying down on a bed, with his eyes closed. Hesitant to what he would see, he opened them slowly, and was more relieved than he would admit to see the familiar ceiling of his bedroom.

"Merlin!" cried a joyous voice to his right, and he suddenly found himself engulfed in a hug.

"Arthur?" Merlin said, half pleased and half shocked. Pleased because he was back, and, well, it wasn't like Arthur displayed his love for Merlin every day of the week, and shocked because it wasn't like Arthur displayed his love for Merlin every day of the week.

"You idiot," the King breathed, sitting back in a chair that was placed close to Merlin's bed. "You've been in a coma for two weeks!"

"Oh," was all Merlin could think of to say. "Sorry."

"Don't do it again," Arthur warned. "Gwen was worried, and Gwaine wouldn't stop talking all through training for the past fortnight."

"You didn't care, then?"

"Course I didn't." Arthur sniffed. "Not at all."

"Next time I have to go help another world, I'll make sure to take less time," Merlin grumbled, then froze in shock. He meant to say that in his head, not out loud. Oh Gods, Arthur was sitting right there. What if this meant he would have to reveal everything now? What would –

"Gaius said you might have had some weird dreams," Arthur said dismissively. "Saving another world though? You're far too scrawny for that."

Merlin laughed, but in his head – and he made sure not to say it out loud this time – he thought to himself, _If only you knew._


End file.
